Raise the Dead
by baichan
Summary: I believe the matter is already decided. I cannot condone child endangerment. I resign as both leader and member of the Justice League of America because of its affiliation with Young Justice. Batman sits in the batcave. He cradles the suit to his chest carefully like he had his son that day. He wonders why he couldn't save him in time. AU, temporary character death, mild cussing
1. Chapter 1

"You're forming a team with _children_?" Batman growls.

A few of the league members scared at his scowl tried to look busy, and maybe if Batman wasn't so mad he might have taken pleasure at the scared look on the Lanterns' faces.

Captain Marvel looked at his hands.

Black Canary only returns the glare with a stern look.

"I think it's a good idea, they'll get a chance to be with other sidekicks their own age."

Batman practically snarls, "It's a bad idea, they're inexperienced and it's bad enough when they go out with their mentors, but to put them together with no adult?"

Flash has a worried look on his uncovered face.

"Come on Bats, it's not like they won't have _any_ adult supervision."

Wonder Woman places a hand on Batman's shoulder.

"I would agree with Batman but I believe them to all be old enough to branch out with others."

Zatarra stands to give his opinion, "I agree with Batman, I don't know what I would do if something happened to Zatanna."

Canary gives him an understanding look.

"I understand your point of view."

She glares at Batman before continuing

"It'll just be a covert operation team, mainly dealing with recon until they're more experienced."

Batman looks at the faces around him and sees that only Zatarra and Hal agree with him, the rest actually think this is a good idea.

He glares at Superman, "You only want Superboy out of your hair." He accuses, voice filled with thinly veiled contempt and disgust.

Then he turns to Captain Marvel, "As Captain Marvel you have wisdom, strength, and speed and are equipped to handle dire situations."

Finally he speaks to everyone, but makes sure Canary knows they're directed mainly to her, "This is child endangerment and I refuse to condone it."

Turning he begins to leave.

"Where are you going, we need to vote on the matter." Black Canary calls out to him.

Batman pauses.

"I believe the matter is already decided. I cannot condone child endangerment. I resign as both leader and member of the Justice League of America because of its affiliation with 'Young Justice'."

He turns to looks at the stunned faces before continuing to the Zeta Beam.

"Now, if you'll excuse me,"

He steps into the Zeta Beam.

"Gotham needs me."

_Recognized. BATMAN 02_.

* * *

Batman sits in the batcave.

It's cold, dank, dark, and worst of all silent.

No cackle, no sounds of professional, acrobatic tumbling, no jokes.

"Robin."

He holds the suit in his hands tighter, the red tunic and shortpants.

"_Dick._"

Tears fall and they're as silent as his footsteps and the body he knows is six feet under.

The body, the boy, his son.

"I shouldn't have let you out in the field."

He cradles the suit to his chest carefully like he had his son that day.

That day.

Batman sits in the batcave and wonders why for all the good he's done he couldn't save one of the two people that matter most to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Omg I love all of your reviews! It prompted me to submit the next chapter. I'm really excited for the next chapter :D**

**Guest that Reads: I love your anon name! Heres a chapter**

**RobinFangirl: H-hey! You're that reviewer from Caught in the Spider Web! Omgomgomgomg- *deep breathe* I love your review they make me smile and this chapter has more information**

**Kaiser Wilhelm: You'll see**

* * *

He knew she was there.

Of course he did. He was the goddamn Batman and she was a meta in his territory.

"What are you doing here?"

She doesn't scare that easily because she's a Gotham girl.

"I just wanted to tell you the teams going well."

She can feel his glare on her but it doesn't make her want to cower, it never really did anything but excite her when she was younger and annoy her now that she's matured and settled down a bit.

He doesn't say anything so she continues.

"Honestly no one blames you for quitting."

She turns to face the shadow he's lurking in.

"There's still a spot for you. Superman's an incompetent leader."

Black Canary would like to think he's smirking.

"They understand that you were only concerned about the kid's safety and they 'volunteered' me to offer you a spot."

There's a pause before a gruff voice responds.

"I'll think about it."

Canary nods and leaves because the bat has already dissolved into the shadows of Gotham.

* * *

Everything is numb and dark and he's crawling, _clawing_ his way out of something.

He takes in a shuddering breath and everything is numb and he feels himself slipping from reality back to the peacefulness of death.

He sighs and its shaky but resignedand accepting and just wishing _it was over all ready._

Because he's dying all over again.

But he's past the pain, hanging on in his last few minutes, numb to the world.

Then soft, feminine hands are pulling him, grounding him to the world.

Everything aches and it gets worse as he settles back into the world, sending him to agony.

* * *

Batman presses a button on his comm.

"Have all the known effects of the Prime punch been accounted for?"

Wonder Woman responds.

"Doom patrol members have changed. Changeling seems to no longer exist in this reality."

Batman doesn't say anything but the click of keys can be heard.

"Garfield Logan age 8, he has no metahuman powers lives with his mother on an animal sanctuary in Bialya."

The line is silent because people aren't sure if they should be happy for him, or sad at the loss of a hero.

Batman breaks the silence.

"What about the multiple incarnations of Hawkman?"

"We're handling it." An annoyed Hawkwoman said.

Pleased, Batman rests back in his chair.

He's just about to sign off the comm when Wonder Woman started talking.

"Hey, Batman, Athena knows you would make a much better leader than Superman."

Batman sighs because he doesn't want to deal with this.

"I'll tell you what I told Black Canary. I'll think about it. Until then I am not a league member."

The noise of keys can be heard again from Batman.

"I have a case."

"Batman, you can't possibly be thinking of going out in the field-"

"Gotham needs me."

The line goes dead from his side.

* * *

There's a searing pain and he's screaming because everything _hurts._

It's like the opposite of dying, instead of going into peace and leaving pain, he's being violently ripped away from the rest that _should_ be his, is _rightfully_ his as a human being and a dead one at that.

Where is his mother and father?

He belongs with them, and not in this pit of green liquid, writhing and screaming in front of a strange woman.

He screams as pain takes hold in a new, _stronger_ wave.

He wants to be dead, he would cut himself in a million pieces, he would set himself on fire _just_ for his life to end.

He wishes he had jumped off the platform to his death and joined his mother and father while he had the chance for a peaceful death.

He calls out a name his voice filled with his raw agony.

_'Bruce!_'

Why hasn't he saved him yet?

* * *

_My name is Robin  
I am ten  
A criminal once  
Beat me dead_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay I lied I'm excited for the ****_next_**** chapter... Oops.  
Should I start responding to reviews by PM and just write to anons by author note?**

**Fighter1357: Omg I read some of you stories! *squeals***

**CHiKa-RoXy: Kudos to you for have the best fricken review ever! Seriously I'm floating in the positivity of your review! And yes this is Dickie-poo.**

**RobinFangirl: Of course I remember you, hard to forget cause your reviews are awesome**

**Guest: ya, this is based of off that of course, ****_but_**** I'm trying to make it as original as fanfiction gets, sooo... Update! ya!**

* * *

In his cell he remembers his death.

He was strung up by his hands with vines and beaten like a piñata, the Scarecrow's gas running though him.

He could barely keep his head straight because of the fear gas and with every hit it got a little bit _worse_.

The weapons changed from crowbars and baseball bats to horrible, _horrible_ things.

He was being consumed by pain and monsters that he saw even when he tried to close his eyes shut. Really, _really_ tight.

Slowly they started to fade away, the monsters, the pain, the _fear._

Turns out death isn't the painful part.

In his last moments he remembered Selina, leathered up as Catwoman cutting him down, her words begging him to stay alive promising, bargaining.

_-I'll stop stealing, I swear, oh god, if you just live kid, I swear, I'll never even pickpocket for a penny_, _you can put me in jail and I won't make a peep, I swear, no struggle-_

He wants to take her up on her offer but he can't, couldn't, he was numb to his own body and besides he _knows _that life can't be bartered for anything. It's an unspoken rule that everybody knows because everyone has a death no matter how long they live or how old they get and really life is too fragile and precious to be worth anything other than peaceful, _eternal_ rest.

He remembers Batman was there, in his silent, sudden way, and he pulled back his cowl.

Bruce called out to him and with his last breath he tried to call out to Bruce, but his vision faded and – _oh_ hello pretty white light.

Death is, as far as he can remember, nice. He remembers his mother and his father and waiting.

For Bruce. For Alfred.

He starts crying as memories torment him and he wonders how long he'll be waiting until Bruce saves him.

_My name is Richard  
I should be thirteen  
But life was never,  
Mine to keep_

* * *

It's the team's mission, really it is.

But it's close enough to Gotham and Gotham is _his_ territory.

The man who quit the league, quit being its _leader._

The goddamn Batman.

Tall, dark, and terrifying himself is suddenly in front of them in all his gruff, Kevlar glory.

He interrupts like they thought, _knew_, he would, but instead of telling them to leave he tells them to search for prisoners and points in the opposite direction than the one he's going on the cross road they found themselves at.

They listen to him without question because again, he's Batman, even though he's probably just distracting them they go without question because his scowl makes Wally want to pee his pants and Kaldur plays good soldier like usual.

* * *

"Ugh, I can't believe this, he sent us on a bunk mission."

Artemis rolls her eyes.

"Ya no duh Kid Mouth, he _hates_ anyone under eighteen in the field and he _knows_ we wouldn't take 'get out well'."

Kid Flash glares at her, but knows she's right because even if you don't ever disobey the Bat he _is_ the Bat and knows how to get his way efficiently with the least amount of resistance. Besides they _are _kids and even super kids don't do orders they can protest and disagree to.

Looking up ahead he sees Superboy.

"Hey Supey! Ya find anything."

Superboy doesn't say anything but instead punches the wall.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Supey, you can't ju-"

He trails off when he sees a tunnel where the wall collapsed.

Okay, maybe Supes doesn't have the finesse of manipulation but when you have super strength, brute force can go a _long_ way.

"I hear crying." He says.

They're all silent and strain to listen, catching the echo of a child's cry that would be easier to hear if they had super hearing.

Kid Flash sprints ahead because super speed has to count for something.

He finds a child in a red tunic with green sleeves, and shortpants, his feet are bare and when the kid looks up he sees blue eyes and a face covered in tear tracks and little smidgens of dirt.

"Hey, kid. Are you okay?"

The kid stops crying and holds his tears in, only sniffling as he furiously starts wiping his face to get rid of any sign of crying.

Superboy comes barreling behind him and immediately pulls the bars off, throwing them behind him with a snarl and a growl.

The kid jumps out instead of cowering like he thought he would, and takes off down the tunnel.

Even without super hearing he hears Artemis' and M'gann's sounds of surprise as the kid runs by them.

Kid Flash chases after him and dang, that kid can _run_.

He grabs the kid who starts shouting, calling out for the cavalry to rescue him when one has already arrived.

"Bruce! Mom! Dad! _Talia!_ Help!"

Kid Flash groans inwardly because he is not a babysitter and really isn't equipped to handle crying children.

"Hey, kid, we're here to help."

The kid stops screaming and just kind of flops and Kid Flash sighs in relief.

He turns to the others who finally caught up with them.

"Anyone else?"

Superboy shakes his head and no one has anything to say until Kaldur, as their leader steps up and, well, leads them.

"Kid Flash, run the boy out of here and call the league the rest of us will be right behind you." Kaldur orders, no room for protest not that anyone would. He's been quiet but he keeps them on task and knowing what to do.

Kid Flash nods, mock salutes and then runs outside.

Superman is there floating down to the ground and Kid Flash blames the Bat for his appearance. Or maybe Kaldur called him.

He hands the boy to the Man of Steel and runs back to his friends to run circles around them while they _slowly_ make their way out of the enemy base.

He wonders if this mission is a failure or success and what their goal was in the first place.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. I was going to post this yesterday but I had to rewrite it and I got distracted. Any one else watching the Olympics?**

**And ****_soo_**** many reviews! They more than DOUBLED! I hope this chapter is as good for you guys!**

**Guest: Lol! Here's the next chapter not sure if you really find out what happens.**

**Guest that reads: Ya it's Dick. Lol my nook censors the word Dick from the review.**

* * *

Talia Al Ghul stared out the window of the private jet.

Her fists tighten, but her face remained unemotional.

Eyes glance to the man, her father, who was seated across from her.

"Don't worry Talia, he is an important asset, we'll get him back."

She didn't say anything, only looked back out the window, trying to see the ruins that had long since passed.

The hide out, the tunnel they had used to escape, _Dick_, they were miles away, and quickly getting farther.

She didn't move, as much as she wanted to reach out towards _him_ and press her hand against the cool glass she couldn't.

She had to be strong in front of her father's watchful eye.

So instead Talia stares out the window.

* * *

Sitting in the chair, in the interrogation room, _alone_, is horrible.

All he can do is stare and look.

Currently he's staring at the door, knowing it's locked. He wonders how well.

The door is metal and probably reinforced by different kinds, hard to tell what exactly, but it looks pretty heavy duty, making brute force impossible if it ever was a possibility.

The lock mechanism is probably not a good option because the cameras are trained on him and the door, and most of his 'tools of the trade' were taken from him by Ra's.

He lowers his head to look at his feet, curling his toes, rolling his ankle. He can't keep still and thinking about Ra's, about Talia, makes the itch in him worse.

With his head bowed so it's not obvious, he examines the glass. The one-sided glass was laced with metal and considering his location and current company trying to break it would probably give Superman a little trouble.

His fingers are twitching now and he's pretty sure his face is going to start next.

He wants to do a handstand or a cartwheel or a handspring, just _something_.

But he won't allow himself, can't allow himself to do that.

It's a piece of his training that keeps him still.

Without powers he can't get a one-up with brute force or light speed.

He has to outsmart, outmaneuver, _breath_, focus. Can't show them his cards, has to keep every trick prepared up his sleeve, every advantage on his side, and one-up he can pull.

His eyes scan the rest of the room and he sees nothing new.

The door, the glass, cameras, walls, floor, ceiling.

He's trapped in a room without even a crack.

It was suffocating.

Exhaustion tugs at his eyelids, tears prick in the corner.

His heart is picking up pace and he's twitching in a frenzy, adrenaline making him want to move, making him squash and push down his exhaustion.

He wants to rub at his eyes and cry, but he can't.

No showing weakness, _no showing how weak you are._

His breath hitches, catches, in his constricting air way, as panic washes over him, _drowns_ him.

He clenches his small hands into fists as he struggles to remain coherent, to fight through his panic.

_His insanity._

His mind is pulling him somewhere else though and he wonders if it's sleep or his sanity slipping. Maybe they sedated him, _tried_ to sedate him. He was in the process of becoming immune to toxins, poisons, sedatives.

Starting with the Joker's gas.

_And ending with the fear toxin._

Maybe the Lazarus pit ruined that too.

_Or death kept it as her prize._

His body goes rigid and he wonders if they care that he's on the verge of dying.

_All over again._

* * *

Black Canary sat on the other side of the one sided glass, staring at the boy as he looked and twitched.

_Twitch._

It made her feel an itch and she stretches back in the comfy chair.

Her comm comes on and she's glad she has a distraction from the pure energy the kid radiates. It's making her twitchy.

"This is Batman, calling Justice League, come in Justice League."

"Black Canary here."

"Has Young Justice reported in?"

"Affirmative."

"Injuries?"

"Negative."

"Did they find anything? Anyone?"

"Affirmative. They reported finding a cell. A boy black hair, blue eyes, pre-pubescent found. He is currently in the custody of the league."

It's silent on his end and Canary thinks he's processing the information, asking the questions that cultivate pathways for answers and make him the world's best detective.

"… I'm coming in."

"I'm not sure if you have the authority to do that."

Canary whips around and sees Superman listening in to the conversation through his own comm.

A growl is heard from the other line.

"I _am_ coming in."

The line goes dead.

Superman takes deep breath and when he breaths out she rubs her arms to fight the frosty breeze.

"He _is_ a detective Superman, if anyone can get answers it's him. Besides, from what I've heard about Ra's this kid probably has connection to the bat."

Superman doesn't say anything but his nostrils flare.

She turns away from him.

"I'm on babysitting duty."

The kid is tucked into himself on the chair, his form shrouded by the bright yellow cape, only leaving a shock of black hair exposed.

"Poor kid. Should I give him a blanket, or maybe something to eat?"

"No."

Canary whips around to glare at him.

Superman sighs.

"He is not our guest he's-"

"What? Our prisoner, because by the cell they kept him in, I'm pretty sure he was Al Ghul's prisoner as well!"

She turns back to the kid.

"I was going to say person of interest, maybe even victim."

Canary sighs.

"Even people on death row are allowed a last supper Clark."

"He's not on death row, his needs will be met, but not until we can assess if he's a threat or not. Just wait until Hal or Diana arrive."

Canary purses her lips even though he can't see it.

"I'm only waiting until Batman gets here."


	5. Chapter 5

Wally was lounging on the couch in Mount Justice, sipping his coke he got from the restaurant on the way hear.

"So who do you think that kid was?"

He took a handful of fries and shoved them into his mouth.

"I mean, he has a cape and if the uniform doesn't scream 'shoot me because I'm a super heroing traffic light I don't know what is."

Artemis rolls her eyes and looks up from where she's polishing her arrows and points it at him.

Did he mention it was the ones with the metal pointy end?

"First off Motor Mouth, don't talk with your mouth full, it's disgusting, and second, a 'traffic light'? What does that make you Kid Pig?"

Wally glares but backs off a little because 'hello stupid' you don't argue with the girl with the pointy stick, especially if she is eternally PMSing.

"I am an awesome traffic cone, one that comes in stealth mode."

Artemis rolls her eyes and goes back to polishing.

M'gann floats in and squeals in delight.

"Oh! What if he's another sidekick?"

Wally smiles at her.

"You know what Mega-licious? I bet your right!"

Superboy glares at him from his spot on the couch, before going back to glaring at the 'No Signal' screen.

Artemis holds the arrow tip up in the light.

"I wonder who his mentor is."

Closing one eye she examines the arrow tip before placing it back in her quiver and grabbing the next one, a trick arrow this time.

She clicks something and the cylindrical tip opens in half revealing a shoot line.

Taking it out, she methodically begins to examine every inch of the long line.

"Oh! Do you think it was a league member?" M'gann asks with bright excited eyes.

Wally takes a very short moment to think about it.

"Hm… I don't know babe. Don't you think they would have been there?"

Wally glances at Artemis who's not even halfway to halfway done with examining the arrow.

"Doesn't that get tedious?"

Artemis cocks an eyebrow but doesn't turn to face him.

"I'm surprised you know what tedious means."

Wally rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to say something but Artemis cuts him off in a 'you should know this' tone.

"My equipment is my lifeline, without proper maintenance my life is at stake and I become a liability."

Everyone's quiet until Kaldur, speaking for the first time since the debriefing, switches topics.

"Wally, maybe they did not know that he was there."

Wally takes a sip from his cola.

"I guess your right but why wasn't the league at least informed? If someone with connections to the league went missing we would know right?"

No one responds to that.

"Well, uhm, wouldn't they want to find the kid?"

Kaldur nods, furrowing his brow in thought.

"Perhaps that is why we were sent there."

Wally deflates a bit.

"We were sent on a rescue mission and not a raid or even a recon?"

Kaldur shrugs.

"If we saved the child's life I do not think it is anything to be upset about."

Wally sighs and gives a faint smile.

"Ya…"

Then he perks up.

"So who do you think his mentor is? I bet it's the Green Lantern."

M'gann furrows her brow.

"Wally, Green Lanterns are chosen and they are usually older by human means."

Wally sighs but nods, "Besides, if one of the Green Lantern's gained a _sidekick_, everybody would know."

M'gann giggles, "_I_ think his mentor is Wonder Woman."

At the curious glances she flushes.

"W-well they look alike! And their costumes were similar…. Kind of."

Artemis rolls the metal line back up and closes the trick arrow.

Looking at the diminished pile of unchecked and unclean arrows she moves on to check her bow.

Checking the line she strings the arrow and pulls it taunt making sure it doesn't break.

"I agree with M'gann."

Kaldur meditates on it for a moment, "What about Captain Marvel? They look alike and he has a cape."

M'gann thinks about.

Wally dismissively waves his hand in the air.

"That's true, and he's good with kids, but he's not _good_ with kids."

Kaldur raises an eyebrow stoically.

Wally rolls his eyes, "He's good with kids because he's kind of immature, besides if the kid had powers he didn't show it."

Kaldur nods.

"I think his mentor's Batman."

They all stare at Superboy.

Wally chuckles uneasily.

"Haha, didn't know you had a joke in you Supey."

Superboy glances at them, eyes trained on Artemis.

"It's not a joke. He had that look that all people from Gotham do. Batman, Canary…"

He trails off eyes focused on Artemis.

Then he turns back to the t.v.

"They all have the same look. It's hard to explain, it's like they all have a deep rooted despair that they know they can't run from."

His eyes go back to Artemis.

"So instead they come at it with crowbars."

Artemis can swear he sees it. Swears that he _knows_.

But he can't.

Wally gives an uneasy laugh.

"Ah, Supes, you've watching too much Gotham news."

Artemis tries to tell herself to relax but she can't.


	6. Chapter 6

**(A/N) no worries there will ****_eventually _****be daddy bats...**

* * *

The zeta beams announce the arrival of Batman and Dinah turns.

She isn't surprised to find a man in a bat suit towering over her.

She's not intimidated by the overbearing presence, she never has been because the Bat, although dark and gruff, has always been a symbol of protection to the innocents in Gotham, but if his expression was directed at her, she might have been.

He's staring at the kid and for some reason he looks, angry. Furious in a way that's almost blind in a flurry of emotions that Dinah hasn't seen from him since he had shut out contact from the Justice League three years ago. When he was still their leader. It had taken a month and constant pestering from multiple members to get him to leave Gotham. He had been different, darker, scarier, and with no smirks or explanations.

"Open the door." He growls out, demanding.

She narrows her eyes but does it any way.

He barges into the room and grabs the kid by his cape.

The kid jerks in surprise, but when he looks up and sees who's holding him, he doesn't protest, doesn't struggle.

He just looks up at the imposing figure of the bat with big, adoring, blue eyes that have tears in the corners, and a relieved grin. His mouth moves to speak, the sound clear to her over the speaker.

_"Bruce!"_

The expression that Batman is wearing is something Dinah's never seen on him before.

It's shell-shocked, shaken, and surprised.

_Lost._

The kid, just hanging there by his cape reaches a hand out and tentatively touches Bruce.

He lets go of the cape, the yellow fabric slipping between his fingertips, and the kid falls to the floor, stumbling into a crouch.

Wordlessly Batman turns and leaves the room and the kid trails after him like a duckling, grabbing at his cape, eyes still staring adoringly at the cowl.

Dinah jumps up to stop them but Batman's head snaps towards her.

"Stay out of this!" he snarls, making her stumble backwards.

Turning back he leaves, followed by the kid.

Dinah's shaking because this is the first time she's ever been afraid of the bat.

* * *

When Batman zeta beamed into the Batcave, Alfred was there, just setting down a hot meal.

"Oh I didn't realize you would be home so _early_ sir." Alfred said in his eternally sarcastic British accent.

When it became obvious that someone was behind Batman, Alfred raised an eyebrow.

Batman shifts his cape to reveal the small child following behind.

Alfred's eyes widened.

"Oh good heavens, that can't possibly be-?"

The child smile is so big and vulnerable, and even though his eyes seem a little different he is undeniably the same child he had helped bury.

Alfred stared eyes wide and hands shaking.

"This, this is-"

Batman speaks since the first time he saw the child.

"We're doing a DNA test. And then we'll see what happens.

Alfred turns and leaves the Batcave.

"Very well. I will prepare a guest room just in case."

He sneaks one last glance and sees the child's crushed, crestfallen face.

* * *

Batman picks the child up, his hands are gentle and his motions are harsh, a confusing mixture, as if he isn't sure that this is possible or not. Whether it's _true _and _real_ or _fake _and _fiction._

Placing him on the medical bed he opens a cabinet, and extracts tubes and two plastic vials.

Ripping off the plastic for the sterile needle, looks to see the kid already has a tourniquet like band tied above the crook of his left arm.

The child looks up at him, vying for affirmation that he did well.

Bruce ignores this and gently takes his arm.

Finding a vein he places the needle against the skin and presses a trigger, the needle springs forward.

He watches the child stare with sick fascination before paling and turning to look away.

Bruce wants to chuckle like he usually does at Dick's reaction to getting blood drawn, but he hasn't laughed at it in three years.

The first vial fills with blood so he quickly snaps it off, keeping one hand on the needle to stabilize it, and replaces it with the other.

Internally he's struggling, more than half of him wants to believe, does believe, that this child is his son, and the other half is screaming at him, digging up memories of burying him, the coffin, placing his broken body in the coffin.

The vial of blood and Alfred's reaction proves to him that at least this isn't some cruel hallucination.

He just hopes that if this is real, if this _is_ his son, he won't wake up to find his world still destroyed.

His eyes look up to stare at the kid and the small scars that he recognizes from a pale lifeless form.

Emotions push up heavy, making his eyes water and his throat closes.

Swallowing and blinking he snaps off the last vial and carefully removes the needle, quickly grabbing an alcohol swab, a tissue, and medical gauze he wraps his arm up.

Turning from the pale form, full of life and swinging his legs, he goes to the bat computer and taking one of the vials he runs it in the computer scanning for a DNA match.

The other he places in a sterile package to send to Leslie.

The computer makes a sound signaling that it found a match.


	7. Chapter 7

Dinah was standing in front of the league she had called, trying to keep her cool and to not twitch.

"So, Dinah, why were we called here?" Superman asked voice filled with accusation.

Sighing and collecting herself, she pulls up a video, paused at the moment that Superman was escorting the child into the interrogation room.

"Who's the kid?" Flash calls out.

Dinah waves a hand to dismiss what he said, her eyes glancing at him.

"Just watch."

She fast forwards the video to the point where Batman was suddenly behind her then plays it.

The Bat growls at her, goes in the room, and picks up the kid by his cape.

A few make protesting noises at that.

Then the kid says his name and others make surprised sounds.

The video continues playing and the kid gleefully follows the Bat and when Dinah stands to stop them he snaps at her and she flinches back.

The rooms quiet for a moment.

"So. Anyone know who the kid is?" Dinah asks.

Barry narrows his eyes at the image.

"I can do a scan for the kids face and see if it matches up with any files. It might not be as sophisticated as what the bat can do, but it might get results."

Typing on the screen in front of him, the large screen rewinds to the point where the kid was hanging by his cape, the camera catching a clear shot of his face. He zooms and edits the pixels for better clarity. Then started the scan, flashes of faces zoom on the right side of the screen while the kid's face stares back on the left.

**No Match**

Barry's brow furrowed.

"Is there anything else you can do Barry?" Dinah asked.

Barry licked his lips.

"I-I can extend the search."

Dinah gives him a confused look.

"What do you mean? What was it omitting before?"

Barry took a breath and fiddled with the search before starting it again.

"It was only searching-"

**Match Acquired**

Barry's eyes widened.

"-living people."

* * *

Looking at the results in disbelieve Bruce wasn't sure what to do. The DNA matched and all the scars on the boy's body were too exact, too numerous, and aged, they may have been faded but they were still there.

There's a tug on his cape and he turns to look at small childish hands pulling on his cape. A young, familiar face stares up at him with half lidded eyes.

The child yawns and then mumbles something. It's the first time he's spoken since the league's interrogation room and the sound of his son's voice squeezes his heart and makes him desperate for this all to be true.

"…'M t'red…"

Bruce sigh and smiles. Slowly he scoops the child up as he yawns again. The child curls into his chest, instantly falling into a doze.

Bruce smiles and brushes a strand of hair back.

He carries the child to bed. Going into a room that hasn't been used in three years except to mourn.

"Goodnight Dick." He whispers.

Dick grabs his hand.

"G'dnight Br'ce…"

Bruce smiles and allows himself to believe his son his home.

* * *

Back in the Batcave he stared at the screen, Richard's file open.

His fingers clicked against the keys. He smiled as deceased was removed from the file.

It felt good to do that. As if it solidified things and made it official.

All that pain and grieving and the not quite moving on. What now? And what about Dick?

His eyes narrowed, scowl directed at people that couldn't see it.

How long did Ra's have him?

He growls and his hands curl into fists.

Eyes flickering down at the keyboard as he edited it, he was caught in indecision.

Looking back at the screen his fingers typed furiously.

Then he looked over the Batcomputor's file, finding nothing wrong he saved it.

_Richard Grayson_

_Alias- Robin_

_Status- Retired_

* * *

Alfred's formal shoes clicked on the floor of the Batcave as he approached Bruce, the sound echoing around the hollowed cave.

The sound stops once he stands behind the man staring up at the screen of a computer.

"Sir, you have to understand that this is _highly_ irregular for Master… _Richard's _sudden return."

Bruce nodded, his cowl still pulled down, eyes staring at Richard's file, the picture of the ten year old stared back.

"Alfred, I didn't believe it, but with the reality changing Prime punch it's not impossible."

Alfred rested a hand on Bruce's shoulder.

"I know sir but I believe it would be best not to get our hopes too high. The boy was, sir, he _was dead._"

Bruce cradles his head in his hands.

"I know, but Alfred the DNA matched and all of _his_ scars, they matched too."

Bruce looks up at Alfred, desperation and hope in eyes that had been darkened by lost and despair for years.

Alfred looks at his shoes, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

"Then, sir, I would like to believe that the young master has returned."

He looks up and smiles a tight lipped smile at Bruce.

Then he turns and leaves, probably to make Dick's favorite meals, and if he cries he'll claim it was the onions.

Even though Dick hates onions.


	8. Chapter 8

In his sleep he dreamed.

He dreamed of soft feminine hands that pulled and coaxed from death, the lady's whispered words about not leaving, mixed with ones to stay.

Two different faces mix and blur until one face becomes another.

Cat like eyes widen a bit and the color fades from green to brown, a sharp nose softens and lifts to a button nose, a circular face becomes longer, heart to oval shape, short messy black hair lengthens to sleek, if not windswept brown locks, creating a curtain around him so he can only see her face.

He dies in Selina's arms and he awakens in Talia's.

Her bony fingers brush back his hair and her thin, red lips tell him he does well after his few training sessions.

Her deceptively thin arms holding him down with more strength than his own as he screams and kicks and then cradles him to her chest like a babe, while he whimpers and cries, guiding him through his insanity, coaxing him back to reality.

He had called her Selina a few times, mistaking her, or maybe he was just seeing something he wanted to see, she didn't like it but when his vision cleared and he embraced her he always made sure to call her Talia.

His hands pawed around as he started to wake up, he felt blankets and he searched for the feminine hands that always woke him up, cupping his face and gently shaking his shoulders.

A scream raised in his throat as he felt something trapping him, tangling his legs.

He tried to open his eyes but everything was too heavy and dark and _twisting._

Dick screamed, blunt nails clawing at his throat.

The scream echoed through the house and sounded over speakers in the cave.

Alfred got there first.

"Good heavens!" he shouted running to the boy thrashing in his sheets.

The screaming paused as Dick gulped in air, eyes fluttering, fingers leaving red lines at his throat.

Alfred gently grabbed the hands, not restraining but pulling them away.

The screams turned to panting huffs, hyperventilating cries, and whimpers in between.

Bruce ran in, cowl down but still in his Batman suit.

He immediately went to Dick's side, but was hesitant about touching him, unsure how to comfort.

Alfred spoke without looking away.

"It was close to a seizure, sir. But I think he responds well to touch, it _was_ always a comfort to him."

A nostalgic smile ghosts the old butlers face as he holds the child's hands, soothing them instead of caging them.

Bruce slowly reached a hand out to brush the hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

Dick gulps in air, visibly calming at the comforting touches.

"Ta-Talia?" he whimpers out.

Bruce feels his spine stiff and his blood run cold, a hard look carving itself onto his face.

_Talia._

* * *

Barry stared, slack jawed at the screen.

Richard Grayson, Bruce Wayne's ward, deceased.

_Bruce Wayne's ward, deceased._

It didn't make sense no matter how many times he looked at it, no matter how many times he read it, no matter how many times he processed it in his mind.

He can't take his eyes off the screen if he tried so he doesn't, but he does close his mouth and thinks.

Bruce Wayne's ward.

Batman's ward.

Holy shi-.

"Oh God."

Heads slowly turns to Dinah because most are probably still shocked that Batman has a child.

Barry shivers because that's just not right.

Superman addresses her first because even with super speed Barry's just not getting it.

"What?" he says.

Dinah's almost shaking, almost trembling, her frame just barely shivering.

"I-I thought the- the rumors weren't true I-I thought it was just a-" she pauses and looks up and there might have been tears in her eyes but Dinah was strong and no one had died- no one _just_ died.

"I thought R-robin was just a- just a _myth_."

A few people who aren't so in shock, or are willing to switch over to the new mystery tilt their head.

Green Arrow's one of them but he might just be concerned with his girlfriend.

"Who's Robin?" he says, looking like he might walk over there and comfort her.

Dinah closes her eyes and shakes her head taking a deep breath to compose herself.

She opens her eyes and now there is only a hardened look.

"There were ru-rumors from criminals a fe-few years back… H-he was supposedly Batman's sidekick."

Barry blinks because that makes everything make even less sense.


	9. Chapter 9

**(A/N) Oh my god the reviews! 60! askfdjhaskd**

* * *

The morning finds a man draped in a dark costume, a boy following, hands grabbing onto the cape. The quiet permeating the air was disturbed by a set of footsteps that pad noisily after silent ones.

Bruce, cowl pulled down, was hyper aware of the presence following him, wide eyes staring at him and a small content smile. It was strange to him how easily the boy could just come back into his life.

The smell of food wafts from the kitchen.

"I think Alfred has breakfast ready."

The boy hums in agreement.

"Do you think he made pancakes?" the boy asks, eyes wide with excitement.

Bruce smiles, the feeling of something too normal, too happy for the house perpetually in mourning, and sulking, and brooding.

"Son, I can smell the syrup from here."

The boy preens.

Bruce can't help but reach out a hand to ruffle his hair.

Then he withdraws his hand and turns away, toward the kitchen.

He clears his throat, "Well, let's go."

Dick hesitates, his euphoria wavering before following.

* * *

Superman is brooding, something that he used to do sparingly. Now, he does it when he thinks of Superboy, or Batman, or the many, many stressful league formalities that Batman used to take care of.

(Now there was only him.)

The other league members were in various states of brooding, sulking, and confusion themselves.

Wonder Woman was stoically staring at where her hands were attempting to crumble the reinforced table.

Barry was unnaturally still but Clark could hear his heart moving too fast, could _see _his brain working overtime.

The news was startling and needed to be addressed. The dead ward and supposed sidekick of Batman.

Superman sat up and cleared his throat.

"We need to _discuss_ the matter of Richard Grayson."

Dinah speaks up first, "He is Bruce's legal ward."

Barry slams his hands on the table "Ya, his _dead_ ward."

He flinches back in his seat as people send him withering glares.

Clark's mouth goes in a straight line.

"That brings up another question."

The leaguers look at him.

"Is he safe?"

* * *

Dick looks around the dining table, pancakes warm and sticky, thin wisps of steam rising from them as butter melted. His knife and fork poised, ready to cut and bring them to his mouth. He was starving. He wanted to devour them, stuff himself full like he usually does when Alfred makes pancakes.

His hands were still and Bruce was watching him like a vulture, black cape draping behind him like feathers.

"Are they okay?"

Dick looks up and smiles.

"Ya…" he trails off not sure what to say or how to say it.

The click of dress shoes walking on polished floors prompt him to start cutting into the hot cake.

Alfred walks in, a cup balanced on a silver tray. The milk looks delicious, cool as it's set in front of him.

"Your milk Master Ri-richard."

Noticing the blip, full of emotion and loss and gain, he ignores it except for a quick brush of hands and glove as he reaches for the milk. Alfred lingers before moving to his own seat.

Dick takes a large gulp of milk, hoping to wash down the tightness in his throat.

His stomach clenches and the milk tastes disgustingly fattening.

Dropping the cup he runs out.

Alfred and Bruce are immediately on their feet following. They hear gagging and retching and crying from the bathroom. In the back of Bruce's mind he notes that Dick knows the layout of the building, or at least where the bathroom is.

Alfred coughs and turns.

"I'll be back with a washcloth and something to help settle the stomach."

Bruce nods and tentatively walks into the bathroom that Dick is in, puking his guts out.

Settling beside him he starts rubbing his back. He says nothing while the boy is sick, choosing instead to offer his presence as comfort. He cannot reassure the boy when he is unsure about what happened. About what _has_ happened.

"We're going to have to talk about this." He says as Dick finally stops, resting his head on the cold porcelain, eyes closed.

Licking his lips, Dick grimaces at the taste of vomit.

Alfred walks back in carrying a glass of water and wash cloth.

"I'm sorry for the delay. I thought he might be a moment so I cleaned up the spilled milk."

On a better day, maybe one three years back, Dick would have said something about not crying over spilled milk. Instead the boy sits up and weakly makes a motion for the water. Or wash cloth, Bruce isn't sure. Alfred gives him the water and begins to clean him of vomit, easily ignoring his weak protests. The familiar childish independence strikes a pang in his heart and he reaches out to smooth back Dick's hair.

Bruce closes his eyes. He does not cry.

Dick turns back to retch into the toilet.

* * *

Somewhere in Paris there is a woman who is smoothing down the black satin of her dress. Her face, with catlike eyes and framed by short dark hair, is painted perfectly. Drawn out eye shape, brushed up lashes, and dark red painted lips. Looking in the mirror she examines her curves in the tight fitting top, the draping black skirt that just brushes her feet with black heels.

She is beautiful.

She is dangerous.

A knife is in her glove, small and hidden under black elbow length fabric. A vial of poison is attatched on the hair piece, behind a red rose and small black feathers. A gun is strapped to the thigh that doesn't show through the slit in the dress.

She is dangerous.

She is beautiful.

There is a knock at her glamorous hotel room.

"Miss Kyle, chère, are you ready yet?"

Leaning forward she bites her lips seductively, white against red, and checks her teeth for make-up. They were clean.

Sighing she looks at her hair piece and ghosts her glove clad fingers over the feathers.

_"Dick…"_ She sighs.

Another series of knocks brings her out of her reverie.

"Chère?" a French accented voice called out.

Taking a deep breath she closes her eyes.

When she opens them she is not Selina.

She is Miss Kyle.

Selina turns away from the mirror.

"Coming monsieur!"


	10. Chapter 10

When they sit down at the table, cleaned of spilled milk and wasted pancakes, Dick is the first one to ask questions.

"What did you do when I died?" Bruce flinches slightly and resists the urge to wring his hands.

Instead he is silent for a few moments. Dick's curious gaze is unwavering though, so he sighs and answers.

"… We had to fake your civilian death. It was muggers."

Dick furrows his brow.

"You were buried and I mourned. People who knew you mourned for you and people who didn't mourned for a little boy just barely in the double digits."

Dick nods, a pained look fitting in his eyes.

Bruce wonders if he fully understands the gravity of the situation.

"I stopped appearing at charity balls but it was acceptable. I was a grieving parent, in shock they said. When I wasn't traipsing around Gotham, beating any scoundrel that breathed wrong or working in the batcave to take down big criminals, I wandered around the house."

He pauses and his eyes take in everything that is real about the boy in front of him.

Dick. His son.

Dick blinks and rubs his eyes.

He bites his lip.

He does not cry.

Instead he reaches out for the edge of Bruce's cape, trusting everything it represents and everything it means to comfort him.

Bruce looks at him and rests a hand on his head.

He gives Dick a small smile.

Bruce pulls his hand away.

"The Justice League became more solid and regular meetings were integrated. I began to spend most of my energy helping to build up the Justice League and..."

Bruce sighs and closes his eyes.

"Protesting against young 'sidekicks'."

When he open his eyes Dick is staring at him confused.

"Does that mean..." he asks, trailing off.

"Kid Flash, Speedy, Artemis, Aqualad, Miss Martian, and Superboy."

Dick's brow furrows, his mind matching up heroes.

"Is Artemis, Wonder Woman's or Green Arrow? And does that mean the Flash has two sidekicks?" He asks excitedly.

Bruce can't help but chuckle.

"No, Speedy and Artemis are both under the tutelage of Green Arrow."

Dick snorts at the word tutelage, but then tilts his head in an all too serious gesture, eyes sharp.

"Do you have another sidekick?"

"No."

Dick isn't sure whether to be happy or sad but there is no denying the initial relief that courses through him.

Besides, he decides, he's a bat, things are never that simple.

* * *

Barry licks his lips.

"Maybe... Robin is just a rumor. Maybe he actually died as a civilian."

He might be grasping at straws but this seems sort of solid and he can see some of the leaguers agreeing with his suggestion already.

"He did seem sort of quiet and scared."

Black Canary intervenes though, almost as cynical as a bat.

"But it would explain why he was adamant that children stay out of it."

She stares at the table with a slightly hollow expression.

"Maybe he had already learned his lesson and was trying to be a cautionary tale."

The Green Arrow's face falls drastically, twisting at the thought of losing one of his 'apprentices' and trying to imagine them younger and sweeter faced.

He can't fully understand he realizes and what he can twists painfully at his gut as his face hardens.

How many times had he heard from the Bat that maybe Roy was too young, that his form was sloppy, that they needed to work as a team more?

Barry doesn't allow his imagination to stretch past the thoughts he's had of losing his nephew and the regret of not having kept his identity more secret or the formula more hidden.

The silence stretches on.

* * *

"... In other news a jewelry store south of Paris was robbed, and two guards were killed..."

They are back at breakfast, crackers for Dick and an omelet for Bruce, watching the small kitchen television.

Bruce stops eating though and he goes through calculations. Selina's tour travelled through France this month.

_Selina..._

She was different from him. While he was _'content'_ with mourning and fighting and continuing life as he had, she wasn't. Selina was a fighter to the end and with Dick's death she lashed out.

A violent trail of broken henchmen, all so close if not dead. The Joker was a slippery man but Selina had gotten close.

Batman had found her fleeing the scene of Harley Quinn's corpse, throat and chest clawed out viciously.

_"You walk a path so high and mighty Bruce." _She had hissed at him when he caught up with her.

_"But he's dead and these people don't care about lives, they value none except their own."_

Bruce had told her that it didn't matter, that he had to take her in. Had even tried to reason that it would be safer, that Ivy and maybe the Joker would be after her now but it hadn't mattered to Selina, she was a mother who had lost her child and was now tearing apart a city for revenge. So she ran. She left Gotham and all he could do was watch as she built an empire, hands cleaner than the Penguin's as she traipsed across the world.

He wasn't sure what she was doing, but he was wary.

_Oh Selina, _he thought.

_What am I going to do with you?_


End file.
